


A strange method

by embersandturquoise



Category: Victor Frankenstein (2015)
Genre: Daniel Radcliffe - Freeform, F/M, Frankenstein Timelap, Igor Strausman - Freeform, James Mcavoy - Freeform, Pain treatment, Strange Things Happen, victor frankenstein - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24537628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embersandturquoise/pseuds/embersandturquoise
Summary: A woman with neck-pain visits Dr. Frankenstein. It turns out strange. And a bit dark.Inspired by James McAvoy´s performance of Victor Frankenstein in the movie of 2015.
Kudos: 1





	A strange method

**A strange method - Victor Frankenstein**

“Fucking pinched nerve.”

She made a face.

“You still have that?”

She nodded. Five days in a row now and just as she thought it was getting better, she must have lain wrong in the night or something else, whatever it was – it was still there. Aching. And the pain worsening her mood by each day. Now it was only coffee and drugs. Helped for a few hours. But then again...

“Yes, I still have it. And no one will try about it. You know, high nerve. Neck. They just don´t do that.”

Her friend gave her a pat on the arm.

“Massage?”

“Thank you, darling. But I guess that needs stronger hands. Or thumbs.”

They both laughed.

“You know what. I´ve heard of a guy. He´s not even a doctor as far as I remember. And he´s got a... reputation. Seems to be a strange man. But...”

The other woman shrugged.

“I´ll try whatever. Can´t get worse I guess.”

“Okay... wait, I think I have it here...”

Her friend started to roam through her handbag, then pulled out a card and held it to her.

“Victor Frankenstein?”

That name somehow rang a bell, but she couldn´t make a connection right now.

“Thanks. I´ll try.”

The man on the telephone had been very friendly, but strangely surprised she wanted an appointment. She was thinking if it was a good idea, though. The “doctor” seemed not to have a lot of patients. Or he was highly expensive. She didn´t know. She didn´t ask. But she was sure this treatment would not be paid by her health insurance.

Fuck it, she thought. Either he can do something about it or not.

She stopped in front of an old Victorian building, which might have been a warehouse in former times. The windows were shut. Didn´t look inviting at all. Or as if anyone lived or worked here. Suddenly she felt a cold breeze and shivered. Although it was midsummer. Cobwebs on the window shutters...

There was a plate. It read “Frankenstein”. Just that. No title. No definition of practice.

“Strange... really strange.”

She looked out for a bell but there was none. So she knocked on the wooden door, waiting. A crow flew over the street, coughing and croaking. The street suddenly seemed to darken. She looked up into the sky. Just clouds.

“Oh... hello... you´ve come. Sorry. Sorry, I didn´t hear you knocking. We don´t have many guests usually. But... please, enter... Come in. Follow me.”

The man who had opened the door looked strange to her. Not really, he just seemed inappropriate. Who would dress in a smoking and white cotton gloves... today... midst summer? Maybe a costume event. Cosplay or such. She´d met a lot of strange people in her life and she was open-minded, so she just shrugged and followed the long-haired guy. He seemed a bit clumsy, eager, speaking much too fast, but be it.

They entered a what seemed to be great hall. She was reminded of the old mining buildings in her hometown. Then he led her up a stair and showed her into a large room. High walls, open windows down to the floor. So much space, just... dimly lit and musty. She looked at the man with questionmarks in her eyes.

“Will you need my data? Health insurance policy? Former diagnosis?”

“No. No... I guess not. But... I really don´t know. Victor... Mr. Frankenstein I mean, will explain everything to you. He will be here in a minute. I´m... Igor by the way. Igor Strausman. Call me Igor.”

“Erm... okay. Thank you, Igor.”

The man left the room backwards, bowing to her in an old-fashioned way. This was getting stranger by the minute.

After some minutes the glass-doors were slammed open with such force she feared the glass would break down. It didn´t.

A man entered the room with long, fast steps and came to a halt just inches in front of her. Everything on him radiated energy, she was taken aback and wished there was something, a seat or anything, she could hold onto. He had the aura of a powerful tornado around him and she was torn between fear and a strange fascination. This man had the most mesmerizing blue eyes she had ever seen and his hair looked wonderful; locks, beard trimmed, a big wide-smile – which did not reach the eyes, though.

He looked her up and down with furrowed brows.

“So, what is it we have? Neck pain? Nerves?”

She tried to answer but could only stammer incoherent stuff.

The man began walking around her, no walking would be the wrong term; he marched, that was... too much... energy, exhaustion, might... She held her breath, he placed a warm hand onto her neck, touching for the place where the pinch was.

“Yes, well I see. Pinched. Ha!”

Now he was in front of her again.

He, too wore a costume. Or he just liked to dress like an eighteenth-century upper class snob. Although... he had taste she had to give him that. Red velvet vest under a green coat, brown cotton trousers, boots... no, not boots, those were ribboned shoes. Looked of rather good quality.

Either these guys really did cosplays or...

“You lost your speech, too? Miss? Madame?”

“What? Sorry, I lost track of thought. I... what did you say?”

His voice was energetic, too. Pushy, loud, dark, with emphasis on the consonants. She noticed how he also did strange things with his voice; clicking, popping... His mouth was moving like a grinder and the rather big nose wrinkled, eyes cold still, looking at her as if she was prey. Some strange kind of prey.

She shuddered.

“I said... I can help you. But it will hurt!”

Now was the first time he smiled. Sharp, white teeth. Pimples. Beard reddish now against the sunlight.

She didn´t know what to say. This was the strangest kind of doctor she had ever seen. And she had known quite a lot. They were a special bunch of people, yes, but this one... He seemed to be mad. Like in really mad. His eyes glistened and for a second she caught view of his tongue ghosting over his lips.

Those lips though... his lips were intriguing; plush, pinkish, full, shiny... For a moment she felt dizzy.

“IGOR!”

Now he – who must then be Victor – was at the door again, grunting and shouting.

“Help needed! The lady won´t talk to me. I can´t work like THIS!”

She backed away one step. He seemed dangerous now. Very dangerous. There was something about him... something really attractive, but...

Igor jumped in from the stairs and hurried over to her, shoving a chair against her back from somewhere, just in time to keep her from falling to the ground. She did not nearly faint? She did...

When the dark shadows faded away, she blinked into the sunlight. Particles of dust whirling, sounds, voices, spit...

“Victor, you really...”

“DON´T... don´t Victor me. I´ll do it my way or no way at all. IS THAT CLEAR?”

There was a sound. A snort, a really loud one and then a sigh.

“But... you can do the talking. Women...”

She didn´t envy Igor. This was seemingly not a very well balanced partnership. The poor guy came in sight, smiling at her.

“Okay. Will you please tell me... or us... exactly what your state of pain is. Please.”

Victor snorted from the back of the room.

“I know what it is, Igor. I felt it already. Pinched nerv, first or second cervical vertebrae. Am I right?”

She nodded, not trying to look where he stood. For the moment it was enough to hear that dark, angry voice.

“So then. We have a method for that. Igor?”

“Uhm, yes... What? Really, Victor... how?”

“Oh, come ON! You know what I mean. Shall I demonstrate that on you again?”

There was indistinct chatter now. Hissing.

She tried to shake the dizziness away. Which was not a good idea. Pain shot directly from her neck into her head.

“OUCH! Fuck!”

A loud clap, something shaking vibrantly.

“Behave yourself, woman! Decent wording. Manners!”

Victor came forward again, banged his hands onto the armrests of her chair and now his face was right in front of her. Very close. She gasped; that man was in fact beautiful. Those baby blue eyes... lush lips... and his skin... fucking unbelievingly soft and pure... and and and... but there was rage in his eyes; anger, fury... madness. She tried to collect herself and sat straight up, looking him right into the eyes.

“Will you do something about it or not? Because otherwise I will just leave now and never talk about what happened here again.”

He grunted, his throat constricting, hands clenching around the armrests, but then he backed away.

“You won´t do that anyway. Telling anyone anything about our little encounter here. Or my... etablissment. How did you get the address anyway? You´re not close with Scotland Yard, are you? Don´t tell me you are involved with those people!”

“Victor...”

Igor was around him, trying to soothe him. She was totally confused by now.

“A friend. Okay, whatever... I´ll sign a secrecy treaty if you want to. But please, if you can do something about that...”

She pointed with her hand to her neck. Victor´s eyes sparkled darkly and for a moment there was a grin. He clapped his hands loudly and threw off his coat.

“Then – we´ll start. Igor, the table. And the ropes.”

Her eyes nearly popped out.

What?!?

She threw Igor a look. He shrugged his shoulders, then he hurried away and she heard him rumbling somewhere nearby with what sounded like heavy things.

Victor opened his cufflinks with nimble fingers, rolled the sleeves of his chemise up to his elbows, undid his tie and pulled it off harshly. Then he waited, impatiently walking around, tapping his fingertips against the wall, ignoring her completely.

Igor was back. With a huge plate, which he folded out to something which reminded her actually of a massage table. The first normal thing she noticed in here. At least something similar. When she looked closer, she realized there were ropes to the side of it. She gulped.

Victor turned as the construction had been set ready. He gave Igor an approving nod and held out his hand.

“Please. Seat yourself over here, Lady...”

“Grantham. Celia Grantham.”

He grunted again.

“However. Here. Come.”

Gods, the man.

Igor looked somewhat between excusing himself for Victor and embarrassed. The whole situation was embarrassing. The only one who did in fact very much enjoy it – or at least it seemed like that – was Victor.

She went over and sat herself on the table. Her knees were shaking, she noticed. What the fuck, she could just leave or at least phone someone. She wasn´t trapped here. She had decided to come. And now she decided to stay. She would not end up in pieces. This was just about getting the pieces into the right place again. She hoped.

She looked up and there were his eyes again. Too close. That guy was not in any way professional. Maybe she should report him to the authorities. Moment, where did those thoughts come from? Authorities?

“Ropes. Igor. Now.”

Igor looked at her, assuring that this was okay. She was going mad. How could she trust them.

“It´s going to be okay. He´s actually very good. Just... doing things in another way. He´s a good man.”

Victor raised his eyebrows and gave Igor a very strange look. For a second, there was light in his eyes, as if he was lingering in a far away memory. He held the rope in his hands, letting it slip through his fingers eyeing her intensely. Then he climbed up onto the table, stood behind her and pulled the rope through a metal hook on the ceiling. Tied a knot and climbed back down, the end of the rope in hands.

“Here. Hold on to that. Tight.”

She looked at Igor once more and he nodded. In another time he would have given her double thumbs up or maybe he would be waving a wand. Strange thoughts were invading her mind. Had she drunk anything? No. Must be the sticky air.

“Can we not open a window?”

Now Victor and Igor exchanged looks.

Ah yes, windows were open already. How could she have forgotten that? She took a deep breath and then wrapped her hands around the rope. Victor had returned to a space in the room where she now detected strange instruments and aprons. And... bloodstained clothes...

He came back, holding a tiny device in his hand.

“What´s this?”

She dared to ask and he gave a grunting sound. Pulled one of the aprons around him and ripped open a white bag with his teeth.

“Gloves?”

He hesitated. Obviously decided against gloves, because next thing she felt were his hands, applying a cooling gel or something to her neck. His fingers were warm under the icy gel, not just warm, they were full of heat. And nimble. And gentle. She felt her muscles relax already. She closed her eyes.

Then everything happened very fast.

The fingers were gone and she noticed arms around her, she could indeed feel the whole of his body and she was sure the way his body parts touched her body parts was most inappropriate but she didn´t dare look. Then he pulled and there were several sounds.

Like splintering bones.

She screamed.

And then she fell back.

Her head was held up and wrenched, then came a loud “crack” from behind her and she was pulled back up. Everything around her was moving, shifting and the light dizziness turned into nausea from one moment to the next; she lost hold of the rope and then all went dark.

“You think... that´s been a long time. That never...”

“Yes, it did. Don´t you remember. Be quiet, Igor. Pulse strong, a bit fast still. Breathing lightly. All well. Saw this before.”

Voices around her. A distant humming. She felt like packed in cotton, she was not sure if she could move. She just wanted to sleep...

Sleep... quiet... piece.

When she awoke the light was too piercing. The sounds were too loud. Everything was too much. She shivered.

Cold.

Heat.

Came in waves.

Blood. She tasted blood on her tongue, everything turned red and metallic and loud and...

She screamed and reared up and nearly fell to the floor, but there were arms around her, strong arms holding her up, pulling her up until she stood straight again and the floor stopped shaking.

She moved her head from one side to the other and gave a relieved sigh.

The man in front of her laughed loudly and let her go.

“How long was I away?”

She looked around unbelieving. This was the place she´d come to this morning, she remembered now. Igor on the window, shaking his head.

“Maybe some centuries.”

She looked down at herself and gasped. She wore a red low-necked gown and it felt like there was something like a hoop under it. The skirt of the robe opened in front showing the petticoat underneath. White laces. Sleeves just past the elbow, trimmed with frills, tacked to the inside of the gown. She slowly raised her head and put her hands onto her hair.

That. Was...

Impossible.

Victor smiled and held out a hand to her. He had changed into a dark purple waistcoat, wearing a buttoned vest over a white chemise to dark, knee-length breeches. She looked further down. Strange shoes again. But she herself was dressed strangely. Just that it didn´t seem inappropriate anymore.

“How´s your neck, Lady Grantham?”

She moved her head back and forth once more and smiled.

“Good. It´s good.”

“Shall we go then?”

She nodded.

She didn´t know where they were heading to, but she knew that her life had changed.

The black wagon rumbled over the cobblestoned streets of London. She looked back at the building, which lay now in the dark, its shapes shadowy against the sky.

_“There´s a light... over at the Frankenstein place...”_

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out completely different from what I had planned. However, I hope you enjoy and thanks for leaving Kudos and comments. I borrowed the last name of my female character from "Downton Abbey".


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